


Something Sweet

by afractionof



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Humanstuck, Karkat Vantas - Freeform, M/M, non-sburb AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-28
Updated: 2013-06-28
Packaged: 2017-12-16 10:59:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/861329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afractionof/pseuds/afractionof
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You're aware kissing customers is probably not the best idea, you just can't really find it in you to care. There's something different about this one, something sweeter, and it's probably the cake you've been sending out to him for the last couple weeks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something Sweet

**Author's Note:**

> Original idea goes to windy-broad on tumblr who posted in the BroJohn tag when I was looking for something to write.

You're not sure what this guy's deal is.

He comes in every other day, a little after one, to get the same thing: a big bowl of the day's soup, a glass of sweet tea and a thing of breadsticks. His suit is pressed and neat but you can't help noticing the way he frequently adjusts his cuffs and tugs at the collar.

He looks tense and it's obvious the suit is uncomfortable for him and years of living with your Dad have taught you two things: that the material of the shirt or maybe whatever he washes it in probably irritates his skin and how to make one hell of a cake.

The latter being completely irrelevant, however.

Well, sort of. It's actually probably a bit more relevant than you'd previously considered and you give a silent 'thank you' to your old man.

You're not really sure what this guy does, specifically, but, if you were to hazard a guess, you'd say he had some kind of cushy desk job at one of the cities larger companies. A lot of the people that stop by tended to be desk-guys or owners of small businesses in the district.

The restaurants location was pretty good and it served to support the slightly higher prices of some of the meals offered here.

Either way, forking out a ton for their food or just getting a cup of coffee, most customers were entertaining in some way and you’d made a sort of game out of watching them, even if you couldn't always hear their conversations. Still, you'd take your victories where you could get them, no matter how small. Though, you'd be more inclined to say your luck in even landing such a nice job, overseeing the spacious, open kitchen at your current place of employment was nowhere near a small victory.

This victory could sink the Titanic and you never failed to thank Rose for putting in a good word with Kanaya about you whenever the topic of work comes up.

She could be kind of an eccentric boss but she was nice and let you get away with a lot more than you really figured she should.

Shaking your head, you pour the soup you've been idly stirring for a good two minutes and set it up on the counter. It's picked up immediately and you move to rinse your hands before grabbing a drink and taking up your usual place, leaning on the wall beside the counter to watch the front room.

And more specifically Mr. Uncomfortable Shirt.

He eats silently, one hand occupied by some kind of PDA he's continuously typing away at and you can't help but smile.

This has become a sort of routine you're getting fairly comfortable with. It's probably not all that professional or in any way recommended but you're not really sure you're all that bothered by it and, instead of dwelling on things you've already spent too much time dwelling on, you move onto more important topics.

More specifically the hang-up you've been debating all morning: chocolate or lemon? Or perhaps strawberry?

You've got a basic cake tucked away in the back and two different kinds of tarts, the lemon being your preferred flavor but you've never considered sending it out to him, despite the fact that you've made it a permanent fixture on the menu.

Usually you stick to a plain white cake, very sparingly decorated with little blue swirls on a lighter, whipped frosting. It's simple, something you like to imagine he appreciates.

Which, in itself is kind of a ridiculous notion all together.

It's free and it's cake and who doesn't appreciate free cake?

Well... perhaps you're not really the best one to answer that. You don't exactly like cake but you're pretty sure that if you went somewhere and they gave you a piece you'd at least try it to be polite.

Either way, your thoughts are starting to get away from you and the soup is disappearing at a steady rate.

A glance at the clock tells you it's probably time to move and you turn, making your way to the back of the room to the cooler.

For today, you think you're going to try something a little different and go with the strawberry. It's quite a bit sweeter than what you personally enjoy but it's an old recipe, one your Nanna was pretty fond of and she's never let you down before.

Silently, you have to wonder what you're even hoping for here and how much of a letdown this could possibly be.

But, that's just another thing you're not ready to think about and you brush it aside in favor of the task at hand.

It takes less than a minute to set up the plate and cut a nice slice out of the circle, centering it on the smooth ceramic before sprinkling a few chocolate flakes over the berries.

Perfect.

On more than one occasion, you've considered delivering it yourself but you're not really all that sure you want any of the attention it could possibly draw.

You like your job.

You want to keep it and you don't want everyone thinking they get free dessert in case Mr. Uncomfortable asks about it.

So, as usual, you stop Karkat before he can hurry away from you and ignore his grumbling, holding out the plate with a sheepish smile.

You take every muttered insult with the same smile and laugh when he finally rolls his eyes and huffs, snatching the plate before you can even get a 'thank you' out. His bitching is worth it. Even listening to him rant about how stupid you are after work is mostly acceptable.

This probably isn't the best routine but you figure if a dessert maybe gets a smile out of him, he'll forget about the shirt for a couple minutes and you think that’s a good thing.

Or, you do until Karkat comes back and drags you through the kitchen, ignoring your protests until he's shoved you out the back door.

He's pretty strong for how tiny he is and you hold up your hands. "What was that for?"

"Nothing," he snaps and turns around, slamming the door in your face.

You've known Karkat for quite a while. The two of you went to college together, for completely different things but you'd shared a dorm and you knew him pretty well after all the impromptu feelings jams and romcom marathons.

He was weird.

Really weird but he usually did things for a reason and you trusted him—normally.

Unfortunately... you weren't really sure what the hell this reasoning actually was.

Maybe it was his way of telling you to get your shit together and stop wasting food?

Or maybe it was something else. Something a bit more personal. Something you're pretty sure you might consider strangling him for if the guy standing a few feet down from you is any indication.

It's kind of funny, really, because in this back alley Mr. Uncomfortable looks surprisingly comfortable.

He's got a pair of weird pointed shades on he doesn’t wear inside and you can't help thinking of that one anime Jade made you watch a couple years back. His are black though and you're pretty sure the other guy's were red.

"You're John?"

You forget the shades-- they're not really important, you suppose-- and nod. "Yep. That's me. Who're you?"

"Bro Strider." 

His voice is pretty much how you imagine it and you think it kind of fits how tall he is because for some reason you always think your voice should be deeper at your height and the trimmed, very blond hair he's got tucked up under a grey hat. The sideburns are a nice touch and you're pretty sure even your Dad would be impressed by how neat they are.

But that hat--

Who actually wears a baseball cap with a business suit? And those dorky shades? And who even has a name like 'Bro'?

Though, you guess Karkat's got that 'Gamzee' friend. And then there's Sollux and, okay, you guess 'Bro' probably isn't all that weird, really. It’s probably short for something.

"Well, it's nice to meet you?" You smile and shrug, not really sure what you're doing out here since he's not really saying anything and you can't help but shift around a bit, wiping your hands on the white apron you’re supposed to wear.

The silence stretches and you're almost ready to laugh again, that nervous thing that TG always makes fun of you for when he drags you into a Skype call.

Actually, speaking of TG, you're pretty sure he's the only guy you've ever seen with a pair of weird anime shades like this.

Huh.

Your thoughts are pulled to a halt, however, when Mr. Un-- Bro, steps forward and you nearly choke when he presses a kiss to your cheek.

"Thanks for all the cake. I'll come back at six."

You blink, unsure of how to respond or what to say because the random stranger you've been giving cake for the last two months just kissed you in an alley.

Granted, it wasn't exactly a real kiss but still! People didn't just kiss people like that, or so you thought. You suppose most people don’t wear anime shades with suits and baseball caps with ties and stuff either, though.

"Six?" Your voice is a little strained and you clear your throat before trying again. “Why six?”

He nods slowly and you can see his lips starting to curve in amusement when he steps away. You watch him dig out a slip of paper and a pen. He scribbles something on it and tucks it in your pocket.

"Chumhandle," he says simply. "Your waiter friend said you wanted to have dinner."

"Dinner."

Even behind the shades you can tell he's giving you a look. It's probably more amused than is already noticeable, judging by the tiny twitch at the corner of his lips and you feel your cheeks heat just a bit.

God, you hate blushing and you can usually laugh it off but Karkat Vantas just set you up on a date.

Karkat.

A Date.  

The guy that can’t even manage to talk to your neighbor because for some reason she sends him brain into a complete nose dive, the guy that spends most days ranting about how dumb you are and you’ll be lucky to ever find someone to put up with your horseshit, got you a date.

Jesus, you need a drink because you’re pretty sure the world is about to fold in on itself.

He's still waiting though and you clear your throat again before nodding. "Oh-- right, yeah. Six is good. Six is great. Yep. Just great. Fantastic."

His laugh startles you just as much as it relaxes you and you won't lie, you're even surprised when he touches your arm and leans forward.

You tense automatically, your shoulders tightening up, but his breath is warm and you can smell the sweetness of the tart you had sent out to him and it makes you smile for some weird reason. He's warm too, probably really warm since you can already feel it and he's not even really touching you beyond the hand on your elbow and-- oh, wait, okay, yeah. He's definitely warm and his lips are soft on yours and, Jesus, when did you start kissing customers?

Now, apparently, because you find yourself kissing him back, reciprocating the light pressure and really wishing it'd come back when he moves away from you.

Your hand comes up to grip his elbow and he gives you a small smile before settling his hand over yours and pulling it back.

"I'll see you later."

"Yeah..."

Raising your hand you wave at his back. It’s dumb and he can’t see it but you don’t really care. You just keep waving as he walks away and you can feel yourself grinning like an idiot.

Apparently, strawberry had been the exact right choice. Nanna definitely didn’t let you down and you definitely owe Karkat one.

Maybe.  As soon as you get back inside.

That is, if he ever unlocks the door.


End file.
